


From this day forward, for better for worse

by Signe_chan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Forced Bonding, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Voldemort did something when he hugged Draco, and now his life is in danger. </p><p>A forced to bond/marry fic, because every pairing needs a few of these.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Draco knew he’s lost as he left the castle. Whichever way the battle went, he’d lost. The dark Lord had no more mercy for them then he had for muggles and mudbloods and in the end Draco had been able to do nothing to redeem them. Damned in the eyes of those who were fighting against the dark lord for standing with him, damned in the eyes of the dark lord himself for not standing with him faithfully enough, there would be no happy ending. 

He walked out with the rest of them, trying not to let his defeat show. Still, he felt a chill when the dark Lord announced Harry Potter’s death. Because that was it, from now on they were all at the tender mercy of the Dark Lord, surely, and they could expect no compassion from him. 

When his father called out to him, all he saw was one last chance to be with his family, even if it was only for a few minutes. One last chance to stand together as Malfoys. He felt the eyes of his classmates an d teachers, but what did their opinions matter compared to his mother and his father? 

He began walking towards them, trying not to meet the Dark Lord’s eyes. He didn’t think this, his apparent showing of colours, could save them now. Nothing could. The Dark Lord would be jubilant in victory and, once his power was secure, mercilessly purge those he deemed as traitors. 

The Dark Lord praised him, hugged him, and he couldn’t stop the sneer of contempt from curling his lips. They both knew he wasn’t doing this for the Dark Lord, only for his parents. For that, he would tolerate this. 

The Dark Lord moved in closer, and whispered some words into his ear. He didn’t recognise them, but they made his gut curl. A spell. He chose to ignore it, what else could he do? He’d be dead in a few days anyway, or worse. What could anyone possibly do to make it worse? 

The Dark Lord stepped back and he continued forward, stepping up to his mother and letting her put her arm around him, then kept quiet and waited until all hell broke loose and they could make their escape.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa arrives at the school looking for help

Neville, on reflection, had decided that today was pretty damn awful after all. It had started off ok, he guessed. And Harry coming back had really been quite a high point. It was when the war had started towards it’s messy conclusion that the day had gone downhill. Sure, he was apparently a war hero now, but talking back to you-know-who and slicing the head of a snake were hardly markers of a good time. Not even blowing up the damn bridge made up for that. Sure, it had been an adrenaline rush at the time and he was ok, really, as long as he didn’t think too hard about how close he’d come to dying. 

Though he might have been able to deal with it, with the whole bloody mess. He might have been able to cope with seeing people he cared about lying dead and, did he mention, talking back to the sodding self-proclaimed dark Lord. He might have been able to deal with all of that is Luna had said yes. 

Well, alright, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to DEAL with it per se, but he could have nicely put of dealing with it for a bit longer if he’d been able to pull Luna into his arms and forget about the world for a while. 

It had taken him ages to find her. It wasn’t until after the battle, still riding on the adrenaline, he’d finally managed to talk to her. To tell her he was mad about her. 

She’d looked at him and smiled in that way of her and told him he was her best friend but he wasn’t that kind of friend to her, and there was someone out there who needed him more, whatever the hell that meant. 

And, in the end, what was the point of being a big damn hero and talking back to you-know-who and killing a big-ass snake with the sword for Gryffindor if, after all that, Luna didn’t like him that way. 

He knew he was sulking, but he thought he deserved a damn sulk. He’d had the shit beaten out of him, been more scared then he’d ever been before in his life and Luna didn’t like him. 

He left the great hall and went off to feel sorry for himself away from everyone else. He couldn’t do with all the hugging and crying on each other’s shoulders right now, he just wanted to be alone and mope. 

Of course, there were other people in the courtyard, sat around in small groups, but none of them tried coming over to tell him he was a hero so he was happy to ignore them. He was Harry, Ron and Hermione stood talking and veered away from the, sticking to the far wall of the courtyard. He was still carrying the sword of Gryffindor and he swung it a few times, experimentally. He’d never used a sword before so, really, it was a wonder he’d hit the snake at all, never mind killed it. 

The entire place was a mess. He climbed a pile of rubble and looked around. It was going to take months to clear this all up, and time and resources that might not even have. It wasn’t like Hogwarts was the only place in the wizarding world that was a mess. And there were so few of them left now, wizards and witches. Too many wars in too short a period, though at least neither of them had really spread beyond Europe. There were still witches and wizards out there, at least. 

Maybe one of them would be Luna’s mythical person who needed him. 

He kicked at some rocks, watched with satisfaction as the fell down the pile he was standing on. Nobody looked over and he smiled at that. He had a bad feeling he was going to be hearing a lot about himself for a while yet, but he liked it quiet. 

Eventually, he sat down on his rock pile and lowered his head into his hands. He couldn’t do this. A big part of him just wanted to run back inside and make his case to Luna again. To tell her she was wrong and he didn’t care that Luna didn’t need him and how could she know unless they tried. But he was tired and hurt, not pathetic. 

Thinking about Luna hurt, but it hurt less then thinking about everyone who’d died. People he’d worked with, seen every day for years, now lying dead in the great hall, the living loitering on the edge. And, worse, the ones who hadn’t died but were so injured that they hadn’t lived, not really. All that was left for them was pain. 

Like his parents. 

It really wasn’t a good day for him. 

It was only when he heard the apparition the he looked up, though if that hadn’t caught his attention the panicked cry for help that followed it would have. 

Narcissa Malfoy was knelt in the middle of the courtyard, her back to him, clutching a person to her chest, their legs sprawled out beside her. It didn’t take a genius to work out who it was she was holding and, well, there was no love lost there but Neville sure as hell didn’t want to see anyone else die today, not even Draco Malfoy. 

He got there first, though he could see Harry, Ron and Hermione approaching quickly, their wands still drawn. Narcissa looked up at him, and Neville knew he should hate her for everything she’d done, everything she’d allowed to happen, but in that moment she looked no different from any of the people in the hall who had gathered around their families bodies, holding them and crying as though their grief could somehow reverse death. 

If only. 

“Please, help me,” he called as soon as he noticed him approaching, reaching out for him, and he took her hand, stepping closer so he could see what happened, but Draco had no marks on him. Well, none he hadn’t had the last time Neville had looked at him anyway. He was breathing, a little shallow but breathing. He looked like he might just be sleeping. 

“What happened,” Neville asked, sitting down beside her. Her didn’t quite dare to touch Draco, there was obviously something going on here and he didn’t want to get inadvertently sucked into it. 

“I don’t know,” Narcissa sobbed, releasing Neville’s hand to pull Draco closer. “We were…we were back at the manor…and he just collapsed. I can’t wake him up.” 

Neville could make a good guess about what the family might have been doing at the manor. It probably involved packing and a fast portkey to a far destination, but he was hardly going to call them on it now. He lay his hand on her shoulder as the other three arrived, Hermione casting diagnosis spells before she’d never stopped moving. 

They all watched, tense, and she muttered to herself and waved her wand. Neville risked a glance down at Draco and if anything he looked even paler, like he was dying right in front of them and they didn’t even know why. 

“It can’t be,” Hermione mumbled, and before he could ask what couldn’t be Professor McGonnagal appeared in the doorway to the castle, shouting loudly. 

“What exactly is going on out here?” 

“Professor,” Hermione said, standing up quickly and turning to face her. “It’s Draco. He’s…well…I think you should come and take a look at him.” 

She was already almost upon them by the time Hermione finished speaking. Ignoring Narcissa’s sobbing, she sat down and pulled her wand, performing a more complex series of diagnostic spells then Hermione at just used, but sitting back at the end of them with an identical shocked expression. 

“Narcissa, what happened to him?” she snapped, reaching forward to grip the other woman’s arm. Narcissa looked up, red and puffy with tears. 

“He…a little while after we left he started complaining about feeling ill, feeling dizzy. We didn’t think…we thought it was just stress, but then he collapsed. Please, you have to help him!” 

“Has anyone other than you or Lucius been near him since then?” 

“Nobody,” Narcissa replied, pulling him tighter on instinct. “We went home, just the three of us. He hasn’t left my sight.” 

“Narcissa,” McGonagall said, shaking her arm, “This is important. Did he say anything to you? I…Voldemort must have done this. When he hugged him. Did Draco say anything about that? Could Voldemort had cast a spell?” 

“I don’t know,” Narcissa cried, pulling her hand free. “I don’t know, he didn’t…he didn’t say anything. Please, what’s wrong with him?” 

McGonagall sat back, sighed and rubbed a hand over her forehead before looking down at Malfoy again, reaching out to touch him gingerly. 

“I’m afraid,” he said, after a second, “It seems that someone cast some powerful magic on Mr Malfoy here. Something that it’s beyond anyone’s ability to repair, but we may still be able to help him. What I sensed, what I suspect Miss Granger sensed, is that My Malfoy’s soul has been torn. It must have been Voldemort, it would take a great deal of power to do this.” 

“What do you mean,” Narcissa hissed, her eyes narrowing. “His soul’s been torn? What does that even mean?” 

“What it means, my dear,” McGonagall said, “Is that Draco will die very shortly unless we find someone to bond his soul to.” 

“Someone, professor?” Harry asked, and I glanced over at him. He looked just as pale as Malfoy, definitely not a good sign. 

“Yes, Mr Potter,” McGonagall replied, her voice wary. “This is, I think, the beginning of an ancient slavery bond. Voldemort presumably intended to use it to bind Mr Malfoy to him, to what end I think it best that we do not speculate. But we must find someone, and quickly, who can accept the bond. Thankfully, the initial tearing of the soul to make this possible is the hard part. We should be able to bind him to someone.” 

“And, professor,” Harry continued, with a kind of determined ‘I’m going to be a hero’ tilt to his chin, “What, exactly, would this bond involve?” 

“Well, whoever he was bound to, he would be their slave, essentially, Mr Potter, with all that entails. He would be tied to them, compelled to do their bidding, dependent upon them in every way. He will live to make them happy, and when they die he shall die. How much freedom he has, how much right to his own happiness, will depend entirely on whoever owns him.” 

“No,” Narcissa interrupted, her voice calmer then it had been since she arrived. “I won’t let you enter Draco into a bond like that. I simply won’t allow it.” 

“Narcissa,” McGonagall replied with a tired sigh. “It is this or see him die. I don’t like it either, it’s a lot to ask of anyone and, of course, this spell is illegal. But I will not let another person die here today if I can prevent it. Not today.” 

For a second the two women stared at each other, then Narcissa lowered her eyes, taking her son in. Neville followed her gaze. While they had been talking Draco had become notably paler. His breath was laboured now and his face twisted in pain. 

He looked back up just in time to see the look of determination on Narcissa’s face, followed by a small nod. She wouldn’t let her son by Voldemort’s last victim. 

“Professor, I…” Harry started, and was interrupted. 

“I’ll do it.” 

It took Neville a second to realise that them all staring at him meant he’d said it, but once his brain caught up with his mouth he had to admit that it made sense. Anyone older than them, Draco would die when they did. Harry, Ron and Hermione all had people who relied on them already, and he’d heard loud and clear the implication in McGonagall words that this was more a marriage than anything else. Total responsibility for someone else, for their happiness. 

Besides, he was used to getting the short straw. Malfoy would just be the latest in a string of responsibilities he’d never asked for, and he’d always risen to the challenge before. 

Harry shot him a grateful look and didn’t intervene, and Neville wished he was the kind of vindictive bloke who could punch someone for something like that because, honestly, he could have at least argued or thanked him or SOMETHING. 

“Are you sure, Mr Longbottom?” Professor McGonagall asked, and he was glad someone had at least. “Do you understand what you’re getting into?” 

“Not really,” Neville admitted with a shrug, “But if someone doesn’t do this he’ll die and I’m not particularly vindictive so I’m probably your best bet right about now.” 

McGonagall stared at him for a second, then nodded. She apparated, the wards on the castle being gone now, and reappeared a few moments later with a large book. She paged through it then reached over and grabbed his wrist then laying his hand on Malfoy’s chest. 

“Ok, Mr Longbottom. Keep your hand over his heart and repeat this after me, and let’s all hope this works.” 

He did at she said, keeping his hand perfectly still and repeating words he didn’t understand. He was already wondering if he’d actually gone mad. Everything he’d learnt told him he shouldn’t be repeating a spell of this power so blindly, without knowing the implications, but Malfoy’s life was on the line, and he could stop him dying. 

And, besides, it wasn’t like the day could get any worse. 

He’d imagined that having someone’s soul bound to you would hurt, but he felt was a faint tingle, then Malfoy’s breath was evening out. 

“Well done, Mr Longbottom,” McGonagall said, and she suddenly looked tired. “You’d better take him inside somewhere quiet, he’s going to be horribly disorientated when he wakes up. In the meantime, I’ll give what time I can to researching this bond.” 

“I’ll help,” Hermione said quickly, looking eager for something to do, especially if it involved research. 

“I’ll stay with Draco,” Narcissa said, clutching at her son. McGonagall just sighed and leant over to lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“Narcissa, there’s nothing you can do for him right now. He won’t want you there. I think it would be better if you found something else to keep your busy.” 

“He’d my son,” she said, clutching him tighter as McGonagall shuck her head. 

“Technically, right now, he is the slave of Neville Longbottom and nothing more. Things will even out in the end, you need to believe that, but for now Neville needs to take him somewhere quiet before he wakes up. Please, Narcissa, it’s what’s best for him.” 

After a second Narcissa nodded, and she let go with obvious reluctance, moving back so Neville could replace her, looping an arm around Draco’s back. Hermione cast a spell to make him lighter before Neville could ask and Neville smiled at her gratefully before lifting Draco and heading back into the castle. As he headed up the stairs and realised not only did he need to find a quiet corner for them but had to work out how the hell he was going to explain all this to Malfoy when he did wake up, it occurred to him that, yes, he really had gone insane this time.


End file.
